An Early Life Crisis
by MySunnyDisposition
Summary: What it boils down to is that you lack passion. Nothing gets to you. Guess the cool as a cucumber persona never really fades once you solidify it enough.


**So, I was sitting by myself at lunch, feeling a tad lonely, and this came to mind.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders**

Eighteen years, and you've never had to worry about not having someone to talk to. You have two sisters and a brother, your parents are the definition of overbearing, and you've always been a social butterfly with no trouble making friends. All in all, you had more days wishing for peace and quiet than for someone to sit at your table and ask you how your day is.

Then college happens. It's not the same as high school. You're not popular, and no one cares how rich your parents are. Anyone who does care are those who do are no good to be around because they're into drugs and partying and remind you too much of a boy who did the same once upon a time.

The professors either think you should be at home searching for a husband or want to push you to "change the world". You don't know how to tell them you're not much for either option. Why should it be an either-or argument anyway?

What it boils down to is that you lack passion. Nothing gets to you. Guess the cool as a cucumber persona never really fades once you solidify it enough.

You wish you could get excited, though. Cherry and Randy get excited first day of college away from their families. Both try to reach you, to save you from a life of indifference, and both fail.

Randy joins an anti-war group, during the years you're apart before you graduate high school. He looks funny with long hair, but in a good way. He tries to get you interested, but you can't handle the possibility of getting jumped as so many hippies are prone to be. He calls you a coward, playfully of course, but deep down he means it. He's probably right.

Cherry becomes a feminist. She actually refuses to be called Cherry anymore, saying it's insulting not to use her real name, but you're an exception, because you're her oldest friend, even if you don't understand her anymore. Some days you wonder if you ever did.

In any case, Cherry's new friends rag on you for not burning your bra, and for wearing decent skirts. You don't think it's any of their business that you sometimes hike up that skirt to make love to your ex in the back of the van that's replaced his mustang. Those moments are for you and you alone, especially since he's always so stoned he often forgets it was you in the first place.

So, you stop hanging out with Cherry, although you'll wave when you see her in passing. Sometimes she even waves back, and you think that this must be how that kid greaser felt back at Will Rogers. It stings, and you want to go back in time and slap yourself and slap Cherry and slap Randy and Bob for good measure too. Actually, since it's a fantasy, might as well just slap every soc in school, because being ostracized feels rotten.

"Join a sorority," is your mother's idea when you try explaining all this over the phone.

You go to an initiation and decide right away being belittled as an initiate isn't worth the so-called rewards later on. They all whisper at how stuck up you are, turning your nose up at them. You laugh, because it might make you the sociest girl ever, being too good to hang with other socs. They don't find it as funny, but Cherry laughs when word gets around, and Randy looks mildly proud, although you wish he didn't. The just-friends-despite-the-hooking-up thing the two of you are trying out is still painful and complicated.

It gets less complicated when Randy transfers to Tulsa University instead of staying at OU. It's a compromise with his parents. He'll be allowed to continue his anti-war affiliations so long as he moves back home where they can keep an eye on him. You expect him to be angry, but no, he's ecstatic.

"I made them compromise," he says, like he still doesn't believe it. "I stood up to them, two of the most unreasonable people I know, and they listened."

You wish you had his enthusiasm. Instead, all you can think is that it's really over between you two. You don't put much stock in long distance relationships, romantic or otherwise. People can say what they want, but no matter their values, what is inconvenient is what they cut away from their lives. There's no such thing as life-long friendships, especially with an ex.

"I'm gonna miss you, Marica" Randy tells you, finally coming down from the high of standing his ground. He doesn't know he's lying yet. You lie back.

"Why, we'll still see each other now and then, won't we?"

He grins, boyish and cute. "Sure."

Glory, but he really believes it, and you feel like the most awful person on the planet. "Goodbye, Randy."

Talk about final.

Cherry tries to comfort you, but her new beliefs dictate no need for men. You don't need a man, though. You need Randy, and no amount of explaining that will help her get it, so barring time in class, you do nothing but mope and cry alone in your dorm for three weeks.

Then it's time to move on. Easier said than done, but you have to admit your final grades for the first semester have never been better with him not around anymore.

At the start of your second semester, you're still undeclared, but your advisor says you're good with numbers, and accounting might be a good fit.

Accounting is boring, and you drop the course. Your advisor suggests art, a total opposite, and you hate it. Your advisor throws up his hands and suggests home economics just so you can get married and leave him alone. You never consult him again.

Your head hurts, your heart is still on the mend, and you want Randy more than ever. Your mother always brings him up, mainly to rag on him and what a disgrace he is.

"And isn't just so awful I pushed you to be with him?" she huffs. "Your father says I'm never allowed to matchmake again, and I think I agree. For goodness sake, I hear that boy might be dropping out."

Dropping out sounds like a dream come true, and it makes a light bulb go off in your head. You hate college, and no degree is gonna help with that. If you want a passion, you're gonna need to find it out in the big, bad world, not on a cocooned campus.

You withdraw from the university before you can chicken out. You go home and tell your mother who shrugs, because while Randy dropping out is shameful, you dropping out just means she can find you a husband sooner rather than later. You wanna scream at her lack of concern, but you hold it in. You're good at that.

 **By the way, I don't know anything about sororities, anti-war groups, or feminist groups. I don't mean to offend anyone. I'm only using stereotypes to simplify my one-shot.**


End file.
